I'll Always Carry You
by AmiNoo
Summary: You're not a job - you're my brother. Just know I will always be here, like I should be. I'm not the hero you want me to be, but for you, I'll try my best and I will always carry you when you fall. Trust me on that, ok?
1. Crashing Down

_Hi y'all :)_

_This was just an idea that I couldn't get out of my head so I had to go with it! It's still a WIP and I'm diverting quite a bit of my time to 'The Truth Hurts' of course, so updates as of yet will be iffy lol_

**_Summary: "You're not a job - you're my brother. Even when we fight, even when things get bad or hell, even when we hate each other at times, just know that I'll always be here, like I should be. I'm not the hero you want me to be, but for you, I'll try my best and I will always carry you when you fall. Trust me on that, ok?"_**

**_Fighting never did anyone any good as Sam and Dean Winchester realise when driving down an empty road in the middle of the dark. What happens when disaster strikes in the middle of nowhere with no chance of help? Will Dean still live up to his role as Big Brother/Best Friend/Protector and above all things, a Hero when all seems lost? "Love will conquer all..."_**

_A bit of a long summary so sorry! Anyway, I hope you all enjoy it!! ;)_

* * *

The road was deserted, stretching on through the darkness, a loan pathway to who knows where. Aligned with trees like a creepy boulevard, things lurked, just watching… after all, the freaks only come out at night.

A rumbling purr sounding from the night, getting louder as it approached: a true hunter scanning for its prey. It skidded around the corner, bright eyes flashing threateningly, sleek black body shimmering in the moonlight. Gravel churned in its path, almost seeming to leap aside to allow it passage.

The 1967 Chevy Impala was a true hunter…

But even she, the powerful roaring huntress, stalking so confidently over the World's surface, leaving her tire prints behind as a fading memory of her presence, was nothing compared to the two she housed.

So different and somehow so alike, reluctant and yet somehow willing, an older brother and a younger brother: Dean and Sam Winchester.

Perhaps they hadn't chosen this life, but regardless, they'd been thrown into a world of torture, blood and death and there was no escape, no loophole to crawl through. They were in this for the rest of their lives… however short they ended up being.

Still, even through it all, the suffering, the loss, they remained true to each other. They'd watched each others' backs for as long as they could remember and no matter how many arguments they had, they never truly abandoned each other. Even when they were apart, they were together.

Who knows if that would stay true forever? The year was almost up and soon all arguments, times of defending each other would be at an end and Sam would be left alone…

He just didn't understand how Dean couldn't see that.

"You're pissed at me?!" Sam asked incredulously rage spreading over his normally so calm features. His voice roared loudly across at his brother, trying to rival that of AC/DC's TNT howling through the speakers.

Dean didn't reply, his eyes locked on the road ahead as his baby carried them onwards, the only witness to their confrontation.

The younger brother paused, waiting for a reply. True, he hadn't really been expecting one - after all, that was Dean's way now… grin and bear it, make some lame ass jokes and pretend it isn't happening.

_But it is happening, Dean, _Sam thought, wishing that somehow Dean could hear him and just finally see sense. _This isn't a game anymore and any rules that were once there, we can break. So why the hell aren't you doing anything?!_

"You gonna say something?" he asked, eyes reduced to slits as they studied his motionless sibling, still as quiet as the surrounding night. A muscle in Sam's eye twitched. _Man, is he pushing it! _"Dean!"

A grim sense of satisfaction passed through Sam at seeing Dean flinch at his shout, but other than that, there was nothing.

Sam scoffed, resting an elbow against the door and preceding to gaze out of the window, his chin only just held upright against the weight of defeat.

"Typical really," he mumbled, watching the trees fly by, "I mean the same thing happened when Dad died." He knew that now, he was in seriously dangerous waters but he honestly didn't care. Right now, he had no reason to. And even without looking, he could feel the elder brother tense, his hands tightening just that little bit more on the steering wheel.

"Guess you don't remember," Sam pushed, just wanting to receive some kind of reaction, anything to prove Dean was still there. He was going to lose his brother in less than a year… he couldn't have already lost him now.

The volume of the tape lowered, and a shaky breath opposite him made him hesitate, listening cautiously before a voice, almost as if forced behind gritted teeth replied, "I remember Sam."

Sam closed his eyes, in relief, or was it sadness? I mean, finally Dean was talking to him. It surprised him that a chorus of 'Hallelujah' hadn't broken out right about now, and yet, the joke didn't reach his expression. He just found it a shame that his oh-so loving brother had to lace his voice with disgust and hate before he replied.

"Yeah?" the younger of the two stated sarcastically, "Well that's new."

"And what do you mean by that?"

Sam turned, sparing a fleeting glance at Dean, who by now had become so tight lipped it wouldn't have surprised him if they'd have disappeared altogether.

"Oh I don't know, just figured you wouldn't make the same mistake twice."

Dean's brow creased and he looked at Sam, questioningly, "What the hell are you on about?"

A mocking chuckle escaped him as he spoke, spite lacing each word, indicating how beyond pissed he really was, "Oh yeah that's right! Little Sammy doesn't understand anything that's going on. Little Sammy isn't important enough to be listened to…"

"Oh God," Dean breathed, returning his attention to the road. He didn't have time for Sam's childish antics. Little brother never seemed to realize that it never made things better – if anything it made them ten times worse.

"What Dean?" Sam snapped back, "You annoyed that I'm actually right and you can't take it?"

"No I'm annoyed cos I gotta try and drive with you bitching in my ear!"

Thunder was raging in the youngest Winchester's eyes, the oncoming storm roaring forth and Dean was completely screwed. He was right in the eye with no way to escape.

"Fine!" The hurt, although marred by anger, was still present in that one word, and resisting the urge to apologize, Dean just gazed straight ahead, waiting for yet another outburst. "Guess I should just leave again."

Dean closed his eyes in a distressed manner. _He's really gonna do this? _"Sam…"

"No, I mean that's what you're hinting at isn't it: that things were better when I wasn't around?" Dean could already hear the waver in his little brother's voice and knew he was close to losing it. He was so not in a chick-flick kinda mood!

"I never said that."

"You implied it."

"_Implied it_?" Dean scoffed, eyebrows disappearing to his hairline in surprise. "What the hell… Sam! I… God, you're insane, dude."

A snort was his decisive answer and Dean growled. He was getting sick of this immature, self-pitying attitude. _It never gets us anywhere, _he reminded himself sadly. _Just stay strong, stay the course… like Dad always taught us._

"So that's it?"

Dean suppressed another groan as he asked, "What Sam?"

"You just gonna cut me off?" Sam waited, trying to understand his brother's reactions, trying to see through the masks he always managed to hide behind. Sighing, the younger brother ran a hand through his dark locks. "Dean, I'm your brother. I just wanna make sure you're ok…"

"And I told you, I am," Dean snapped, not once taking his eyes off the road. "How many times do I have to tell you that? I… am… fine!"

"No you're not! You can't possibly be! You're going to Hell in a couple of weeks and…"

But he was interrupted by yet another spout of sarcasm. "Why thank you Sam! Thanks for reminding me because somehow I just happened to forget that my deal's due in what was it: a couple of weeks? I mean is that all you do now: point out really, _really _annoying things that actually have no benefit at all to me or anyone else on the goddamn planet for that matter?! You say you're helping but how exactly are you Sam?"

At this, Sam froze, tears pooling in his eyes as he silently cursed himself for his weakness. His lip trembled as he dragged his gaze away from his clearly fuming brother and with a stutter, replied, "I-I'm, I'm l-looking…"

"For a way to get me out?" The younger brother nodded solemnly. "God we've been over this Sam! There isn't a way out!"

Dean spared a glance at Sam, expecting to see the same defiance, preparing himself for yet another round of 'who's voice is the loudest' when he stopped, regret clouding his thoughts. The way Sam's shoulders slumped and how he seemed so much smaller, trying to sink into the Impala's interior and disappear, God, it tugged at the older man's heartstrings. He hadn't meant to snap like that, it was just the way Sam always tried to stay optimistic and know that no matter what, there always was an answer.

Shaking his head, the elder brother sniffed, the weight on his tired shoulders increasing tenfold with each new day. _There isn't a way out Sammy, and the sooner you face it, the easier it'll be…_

"I'm sorry Sam," he muttered softly, the shame at his actions apparent in those three words. He was a damn protector and here he was, knocking Sam back down yet again.

"No…" The way the younger brother's voice trembled made Dean instinctively want to drag him into a fierce hug, how he used to when they were kids. "I-I'm sorry, Dean."

"Sam…"

"You're right. I should've been trying harder," he whispered, expressive eyes gazing out of the side window, looking for the same answer that would never come. All throughout his inspection, he missed the worried glances his brother kept on passing him, still concerned for his welfare. "I should've done something else…"

"We've got time," Dean managed with a smile, trying to avoid the chick-flick moment he could see coming. It wasn't going to fare well for either of them – not like anything remotely heartfelt ever did…

But Sam wasn't having it and letting out a slow breath, he met his brother's gaze in despair, "No we don't."

"A couple of weeks…"

"Isn't enough," Sam finished, running a hand over his soaked cheeks, attempting to wipe them away like his troubles. It was a futile attempt as more tears replaced them, his problems always coming back to haunt him.

The lyrics of TNT echoed softly around the Impala, doing nothing to soothe the aching hearts of her warriors. Nowadays, there wasn't much that could…

"Do you even want to be saved?"

Dean stiffened at the question, feeling his brother's sincere gaze on the side of his face, near burning a hole in his skin. And yet somehow he couldn't answer, transfixed by the steady rumble of the Impala entwining with AC/DC's guitar solo. Why couldn't he answer?

Sam gulped at the lack of reply. _Please say he doesn't mean what I think he does! _"Dean?"

Clearing his throat, the elder brother shifted uncomfortably under the scrutiny, "Uh yeah, yeah, I do."

It wasn't the answer Sam had been hoping for and his expression darkening, he practically growled out his next words. "Dean, tell me the truth."

He was met with only silence. "Dean!"

"Or what, Sam?" he dared, letting his true hunter raise his angered head once more. "What are you gonna do if I don't? Give me that dreaded hug you've been wanting for so long?!"

"Well God forbid someone might actually care for you sometime!"

"And what do you mean by that?"

"You know exactly what I mean."

Dean drew in a deep breath, trying to still the rage rising within him, threatening to rip through his masks and launch itself at his brother. _Not that he doesn't deserve it, _he added sourly_. _

The awkward silence between them that drew on between them did nothing to repress their feelings and not once did Sam's deep eyes leave his brother's face. _If he's looking for a fight, he's got one. _

And finally with their outbursts at peaking point, they both roared out at the same time. "Sometimes I think you want to die!"

"What?" They once again both exclaimed in both surprise and fury.

Sam jumped in first, arms crossed sullenly over his chest, "You think I want to die?"

"Well, don't you?" Oh and the glare Dean received for that one, almost making him completely forget that this was his Sammy, incapable of harming anything more than a fly. "You're so set on breaking this deal when you know exactly what will happen if I even attempt to save myself. You know the risks and you're still messing with the rules."

"Rules were made to be broken…"

"No, rules were made to be followed, especially now," Dean spat, Sam's arrogance playing on his last nerve. "I mean seriously, do you have a death wish or something?"

"I don't know!" the younger brother snarled in contempt, refusing to back down in what was becoming a ridiculous argument. "Do you want me to have one?"

"Oh that makes perfect sense! Because of course, it'd be my first act to sell my soul for you if I wanted you to die!" Dean bowed his head in appreciation, quickly lifting his hands off the wheel and flashed a mocking thumbs-up towards his sibling, "Way to go there, Sammy!"

"You know what: you can stop trying to make me look stupid."

"Yeah right, you're _so _intelligent cos you went to college," Dean clicked his fingers, "Damn, of course!"

Sam rolled his eyes, "You always, _always _bring that up in an argument!" He scoffed in disgust, "You're pathetic, Dean."

"Just cos I'm not Joe College…"

"No cos you missed your chance!" That instantly shut Dean up, and yet still Sam wasn't done. "It's not like you weren't given the option was it? But oh no, you had to be the perfect little soldier."

His fists clenching and unclenching, hands still gripping the steering wheel tightly until his knuckles threatened to break through his skin , the elder brother's voice raised a notch, actual spittle flying from his mouth, "Yeah, because _I_ know where my loyalties lie."

"What, with Dad?"

"Yeah."

"Right, cos the man was such a saint!"

Dean laughed sarcastically, shaking his head, "And you are? Jeez Sammy and I always used to think you had self esteem issues but a saint? That really takes the cake."

"First off, it's Sam and second," Sam spoke through gritted teeth, "I never even said that! I know I'm not a goddamn saint but I just don't get why you thought Dad was. I mean of all people, you chose to bow down to Dad." He shook his head. "Why?"

"That's something you'll never know."

"And why's that?"

"Look's like you missed your chance at something too," Dean began spitefully, sparing one look at his brother's puzzled expression, relishing slightly at the sight. "You missed out on being a real son."

The color drained from Sam's face and he leant back further against the car door. "How can you say that?"

A small shrug greeted him, "You wanted me to tell you the truth."

"And make me feel even guiltier?" Sam asked, brow furrowed as the words really hit home. "Man, you know how bad I felt after Dad died."

"Good, cos now maybe you know how I feel every time you're on about breaking my deal."

"I don't…"

"Every time you go on about how you're gonna get me out of this, it hurts Sam," Dean admitted, refusing to meet what by now would no doubt be a pair of saddened puppy dog eyes. "It reminds me how I couldn't save you and I just want to let it go. I want you to let it go." Green eyes met hazel as both stared deeply into each other's souls, finally beginning to see what they'd been missing all this time. "Can't you do that, for me?"

"You're asking me to let you die," Sam whispered, clearly stating the obvious.

Unable to allow the words needed to form on his soft lips, Dean settled for a curt nod, clearly not expecting any less of the brother he'd come to truly respect over the many years.

Sam drew in a sharp breath, not quite believing what Dean was asking of him. Didn't he understand that when Sam had told him 'I don't care what it takes, I'm gonna get you out of this' that it wasn't just for show? He may be considered the weak link of the family, but he wasn't one to simply give up. Shaking his head, he shot out the one word, spoken with such conviction that it was impossible to doubt his choice: "No."

"Sam…"

"I said no, Dean."

Dean sighed deeply, "Dude, you've got to let this go."

"If it was me asking you, would you just let it go?" The elder brother closed his eyes, trying to deny his sibling's accusation. "Would you let me die if I asked you to?"

Blinking rapidly as he clenched and unclenched his hand on the steering wheel, he murmured, "That's different…"

"How? How is it any different?" Sam growled, eyes flicking over Dean's still face, his expression unreadable. "Is it because you have some stupid responsibility to me?"

Rolling his eyes, Dean breathed, "It's my job, Sam."

"And I told you that it's my job to repay the favor," a small scoff whispered past Sam's lips as he let his gaze wander back towards the windscreen, "in any way I can…"

"And what does that mean?" The fear hidden behind the bravado wasn't missed by Sam, who simply shook his head, shifting his lanky frame slightly in the confined space, a fairly futile attempt to turn away from the scrutinizing gaze boring into him.

Dean groaned, "Sam," Nothing, "Sam!"

"See how annoying that is?"

"What?"

"When you don't get an answer," the younger brother murmured, staring moodily out of the side window, examining the darkness tiredly. He was sick of the dark: it was just too unpredictable, too many dangers lurking in hidden corners: too many chances to slip up.

Dean slammed his palm against the wheel in frustration, happily observing the fact that Sam jumped in surprise. "Would you for God's sake, grow up?!"

"That's rich, coming from the guy who specifically pulled over in the absolute middle of nowhere to try a special banana and syrup sundae!" The remark was tossed snappily over his shoulder but it held little menace. Truth be told, Sam couldn't hide the amused smile he wore every time he thought back to Dean lifting his head happily from his sundae, mouth rimmed with syrup and a grin making him look all but 6-years-old again.

The mood, however, remained grim as Dean murmured, "Whatever," grumpily.

They became silent, both brothers brooding to themselves, TNT coming to an end and allowing them to think in complete quiet. It didn't help that they had no space to clear their heads and calm down. Being cramped up all day in a car, no matter how incredible, often does play on people's emotions.

Sighing, running a hand through his chocolate locks, Sam shifted again, facing forwards once more, knees pressing up awkwardly against the dash. "Dean, you just gotta accept that I am gonna find a way to save you, damn the consequences."

"And you gotta accept," Dean replied, a steely tone to his voice, "that I'm gonna stop you from doing anything stupid, damn the consequences." He smirked, catching the twitch of annoyance in his brother's eyebrow as he spoke.

"Why do you have to be so stubborn?"

"Why'd you have to be so irritating?"

"And bossy!"

"And boring!"

"And so Dad-like!"

"And so Sam-like!"

"And… wait," came the puzzled tone, "I am Sam."

There was a pause as the elder hunter considered. He shrugged carelessly, "So you are."

"Would you stop being a smart-ass?"

"Would you stop being an ass?"

They both glared dead ahead, directing their anger at the darkened road before them. Tempers were reaching boiling point and again, in a confined space, that is never healthy.

"Jerk!"

"Bitch!"

"Moron!"

"Ass!"

"Man-whore!"

"Whoa, wait!" Dean exclaimed, raising a hand in disbelief, "'Man-whore'?"

Sam looked at him sternly, "Well, yeah."

"Just because I actually get some, which is way more than I can say for you," he snapped back swiftly. "Are you honestly celibate, Samantha?"

The younger's eyes narrowed, "I don't know: do you still have ED?"

"Ouch!" Dean whistled, resting a hand mockingly over his heart, pulling out a set of large puppy-dog eyes. "That hurts, Sam, really."

"Truth always does."

Snorting, Dean dropped a hand to his lap, green eyes wandering the surroundings as he pressed just that much harder down on the accelerator, needing to vent his rage in some way. "This is pathetic."

Sam crossed his arms fervently over his chest, quirking an eyebrow, "Couldn't agree more."

"Yeah," the elder brother nodded, chewing his lip. Unwilling to not have the last word, he hurriedly added, "Anyway, you started it."

"What!"

"With all that 'are you pissed at me' crap," Dean explained, realizing with a sense of horror that they had in fact gone full circle, allowing the whole little 'debate' to rear up for round two.

Darkened eyes locked with the side of his brother's face as Sam snarled, "Well if you'd have just answered me in the first place!"

"Or maybe you could stop for once with your whole 'drama queen' act," rallied Dean, their eyes now connecting as they argued, all their rage powering out full throttle.

"You think I'm being dramatic that I might have to watch my own brother die for me in a few months?"

"Well you're not the one that's gonna die, are you?"

Sam's brow pulled into a narrow line, his muscles tensing unnaturally. He couldn't believe this! After everything, Dean still managed to make him feel, if possible, even crappier than before. _He's certainly a master, I'll give him that. _"If you'd have just left me dead in the first place, then we wouldn't even be having this argument."

"Oh yeah," Dean nodded enthusiastically. "Of course it's my fault, right? I know, I should've found you faster, hell, even stopped that yellow eyed son of a bitch from taking you in the first place," he watched as Sam closed his eyes in distress, leaning back into the comfort of the leather seats. "Well you know what, I tried! Ok, I seriously tried, but it wasn't enough. You wanna go busting my chops about it then fine, but if I could, I would go back and change everything that happened!"

His eyes twinkled slightly, and yet the rage remained, still holding Sam's gaze, "But I can't even do that, so unless you've got a time machine, what happened can't be undone… got that?!"

Shakily, Sam nodded, severing the connection as he looked down at his hands. God, they were covered in so much blood: the blood of Jake, Gordon, Madison, Jess, even his own mother and soon, Dean's would be added to the collection.

It just wasn't fair.

He raised his head hesitantly, preparing to watch their journey unfold along the seemingly never-ending road. It would end though – both he and Dean knew it, only this time they actually had a set time and date: a constant reminder of their impending doom.

Hazel eyes widened in horror, mouth an exact imitation of an 'o'. His body was rigid frozen by shock, causing an alarmed glance from his brother, whose glare had yet to leave his face.

"Dean, look out!"

The cry surprised Dean. He'd been waiting with a silent stare, expecting an outburst and an enraged strop to add to the complete disaster of the whole situation. But no, the shout didn't contain even an ounce of anger.

It was terrified and startled: an ultimate plea for help to his only hero, his best friend…

But sometimes even heroes can't save everyone.

Dean's eyes snapped back towards the road at alarming speeds, near disconnecting his cataracts in his rushed haste. He cursed loudly, slamming his foot down onto the brake, the wheels locked and screeching in protest as they did so.

The pale figure before them watched unwavering, long brunette hair swaying by her shoulders as a darkened dress floated around her, light as a feather and its elegance almost mesmerizing. Her unnaturally pale eyes stared impassively at the vehicle as it skidded towards her, unable to stop, no matter how hard it tried.

Tiny lines on her forehead creased in annoyance as she studied the black hunter, the panicked heartbeats of her occupants beating like a drum line through her mind. Baring her whitened teeth, she nodded her head, hair cascading around her head in a waterfall of darkness.

A ripple of air shook the surroundings, pummeling into the approaching hunters with unrelenting force. The front of the Impala faltered slightly, as if uncertain whether to continue onwards before the unseen attack raised her up, flipping her over, wheels still spinning pointlessly while it took flight.

The torrential gale rolled her in the air, her flawless body shimmering brightly in the moonlight before she twisted, crashing back down the earth and hitting a large, jutting boulder with a resounding crack. Her frame rattled, bruised and battered as she teetered, no way to stop her hellish descent. Hinges creaked and glass shattered as the Impala tumbled, smashing over the edge of a large hill and disappearing down into the trees below.

The woman drifted over to the ledge gracefully, arms held lightly at her sides, touching each particle of air that tenderly brushed past her. Curiously, she paused, peering over into the dark where her victims lay. A satisfied smile grew onto her deathlike visage: the stench of pungent blood making itself known by tingling her pleasured senses.

Flicking her hair back from her deadened eyes, she turned with a wary flicker, gliding away casually down the roadside. Her form began to weaken, each step causing her to glow translucently. Finally, her hair rising in an imaginary breeze, she faded away into nothing.

* * *

_So there's the first chapter for you. I don't know what it is about Supernatural and car crashes but -shrugs- I guess it works lol_

_Please review by just pressing that little button at the bottom of the screen :)_

_Hugs, Ami-Rose x x x x x _


	2. Fire Away

_Hey y'all :):):)_

_Phew! Sorry for the slow update again! I totally didn't know I was really slow until one of my friends politely told me that I was: 'As slow as a turtle with a 10 ton weight on its back.' :S (Which is always a real self-esteem booster lol)_

_They also said I was: 'As graceful as an elephant wearing rollerblades in a china shop.' :P (Don't I have lovely mates! hehe)_

_Anyway, this chapter mainly centers on Dean but don't worry Sammy-girls! He will be back soon!! ;)_

_So, hope you all enjoy!!_

* * *

"Ah! God…" His head was on fire. He was sure his skull had split clean in two, the agonizing pain sending shivers down his battered frame, lodged up against the steering wheel, now not even recognizable as a wheel.

He swallowed, a mixture of blood and bile burning the inside of his throat, making him wince as his chest expanded uneasily, dragging much needed air into his lungs.

The surroundings were blurry, a haze of darkness, glass and pain in which he searched, trying to get a grasp on some sense of reality. His left arm was trapped awkwardly behind him, twisted so tight that all feeling had left his fingers, the blood flow utterly restricted. His stomach was lodged against the dash, trapped painfully between the door and the steering wheel.

With a grunt, he attempted to move, crying out in agony at the movement, a spark shooting through his muscles and rattling his bruised bones.

"Jesus!" His emotions were raging in overload: hurt, fear, anger, frustration… he was pinned, trapped inside his precious baby and completely helpless in a place where only God knows what could be stalking them.

He shook his head as a wave of dizziness crept over him threateningly, allowing black spots to dance mockingly before his dazed eyes. "No, d-damn it," he slurred slightly, the pull of unconsciousness becoming increasingly harder to resist.

A thought struck him as fast as a speeding bullet, snapping his exhausted head upwards, despite the spiking feeling travelling down the base of his neck, "S-Sammy?"

Silence greeted his ears: the worst sound that could ever be heard at this time.

"Sam? C-Come on dude, a-answer me," His plea went unheard, a remnant of their fight from earlier. The realization stabbed at Dean's heart, stinging bitterly with each hitched breath. The last things he might have ever said to his brother, and they were about the time he had died.

In denial, he attempted to push himself upright: a failed effort as he briefly collapsed once more, panting against the ruined interior of the Impala.

"No, no, he's not dead, he's not," he whispered to himself, eyes closed tightly, willing away everything that had happened. "Just unconscious, not dead, he's…"

A loud creak interrupted his mantra, his eyes going wide as he listened. There were no footsteps, no sounds of breathing, just the heavy beat of Dean's frantic heart from where he lay.

Biting his lip, he twitched the fingers of his bent arm, relieved to find that some movement still resided in their numb forms. He rolled his shoulder, the bone cracking causing his breathing to pause. Then, deepening each breath through his nose, not trusting himself to open his mouth in fear of what would emerge, he forced his arm to move, needing the extra strength from both arms to free himself.

"Ah!" He yelled, jostling the awkward angle at which his arm was bent. Tears fell unwillingly from his eyes and he blinked them away, twisting his body in its confined space. The arm that had once been held hostage behind him, eventually fell weakly from his back with a dull thud against the door, making Dean curse loudly.

"Sammy?" No soft voice answered him, just heightening Dean's fears as he struggled, ignoring the red color that trickled into his eyes, running from an injury somewhere on his forehead.

_Can't think about that now - need to get to Sam. _And as he said it, the muscles on his arms bunched, pushing his body up with a sharp burst of adrenaline. Teeth bared, he felt himself rise off of the dash, ignoring the throbbing igniting from every part of his body.

His side brushed against the steering wheel and suddenly, it all rushed him. The pain was intense, white hot as it screamed from his flesh, the light-headedness returning before all of his stored up energy disappeared.

Limply, he fell back against his hard 'pillow', hands splayed out in front of him, reaching for his life-line, his brother…

One whisper made it past his lips and then his eyelids fluttered, at last closing and sending Dean into a warming oblivion. "Sammy…"

* * *

_Smoke? Huh? Well that's weird…_

Dean groaned, taking in the new smell as he sluggishly awakened, eyes only a half-mast. His ribs felt like they'd locked, compressed by his enclosed sleeping area as they battled it out with his weakened lungs. The now free arm tingled, still struggling to return blood flow to its starved vessels. Other than those and his head feeling like he'd gone ten rounds with a brick wall, things were just awesome.

_Still, _he thought, puzzled, not quite capable of completely coherent thought by this point. _I'm sure there wasn't smoke before… _Green eyes wandered aimlessly over the shattered glass of the windshield, the broken frame and the peculiarly horizontal tree ahead of him.

He frowned, "T-Tha's a new one."

A warm feeling seemed to spread around him, warming his frozen limbs and sending a shiver up his spine: a reminder that he was still alive.

He sighed contentedly, his rambled mind allowing his eyes to close once more, "W-Who t-tipped the world o-over?" He giggled like a drunkard, so easily amused by such simple things. Everything around him was shifting into a wavy catastrophe, any previous thoughts on what was what now vanquished from existence.

"I w-wonder…" a yawn wrenched itself from his parched lips, his eyelids fluttering in their desperate attempt to keep him awake, "I wonder wha' Sammy would think of t-this place…"

With a smile, he closed his eyes, his brain not quite capable of forming a fast reaction to his own words.

Memories flittered behind lightly closed lids, all revolving around one person in particular: a young man with long unruly brown hair that fell unceremoniously into his eyes so that he had to keep flicking it away in annoyance, a notion that even Dean couldn't deny to be slightly cute. His huge doe-like eyes gazed with a sense of reserved innocence around him and then there was that smile: that one smile he always reserved just for him. Dean couldn't help but smirk at the thought of those brightly flashing dimples and somewhat child-like appearance.

He inwardly shrugged to himself. _I guess he can't help looking like a toddler… He's my baby brother after all. _

His lips twitched at the corners, pulling at dried blood around the corners of his mouth. Any thoughts about his little brother always seemed to make him feel, I don't know, content, at peace even…

_He just has that effect on people. _

It was strange the way that every one of Dean's memories, or at least fond memories that he could recall, had to possess this one special person within them. Without him in them, they just weren't worth remembering…

"_We're close, right?" He saw a teenage kid asking him, eyes wide as he gazed up at him, the top of his head barely touching Dean's chin. It was a fact the elder brother prized beyond anything else. He couldn't resist winding up the little squirt whenever he got the chance. _

_Dean chuckled with a nod, "Scarily." _

_There was a slight shuffle as the younger boy jumped onto the wall beside him, swinging his legs joyously as they stared ahead at, well, nothingness. _

"_You blame Dad?" At the question, Dean raised an eyebrow, turning to look at his brother, who quickly added, "For us being close I mean."_

"_Um…" Dean looked away once more, the famous smirk making its way onto his youthful and handsome face. "Nah, I blame you. Always were clingy…" A light punch on his arm made him chuckle and he raised his hands in mock surrender. "Hey, I'm just telling it how it is."_

"_Yeah, well if you ask me, I've got extreme talent."_

"_How so?"_

_The teenager stretched leisurely, a mischievous glint in his eyes, "Getting you to be just as clingy back with your levels of testosterone?" He let out an appreciative whistle. "I deserve some kinda award for that one."_

_Dean scoffed in surprise, managing to hide his pride for the kid's snappy remarks behind mock pain. "Ouch! Hey you keep going like that and you're gonna crush my spirit someday." _

_The younger brother snorted loudly. "'Break your spirit'?! Dude, that's an actual impossibility! You're like a sugar-high bunny on crack."_

"… _Am I supposed to be offended by that?"_

_All that answered him was a cheeky shrug and the reply, "I'm just telling it how it is."_

_Dean grinned, taking a swipe at his brother's head and watching as the boy ducked, pushing himself off the floor. He landed on his feet with ease, straightening as he beamed, that so special dimpled smile greeting him. _

_The elder brother sighed, leaning back on his arms, eyes to the cloudless sky. "You shouldn't be talking like that, you know. Anyone would say I'm becoming an influence on you."_

_The melodious chuckle delighted him as he continued his gaze, and little brother spoke, words that always warmed Dean's heart. "Yeah well, I learned from the best right?"_

_As the soft patter of footsteps echoed around, Dean smiled widely, eyes still locked with the endless blue sky while his brother's words, so filled with love and pride made themselves known through his mind. _

"_Thanks, Sam."_

With a gasp, Dean's eyes snapped open, staring ahead in pure horror. _No, no, no! _It hit him hard, harder than the initial impact of his beloved Impala crashing. He took a deep breath, screaming at the top of his lungs, "Sammy!"

His concussion was long forgotten, any remaining thoughts of confusion banished to the back of his mind, his duty as big brother overruling anything as trivial as pain.

A groan wrenched itself from his parched lips as he twisted, hands trying to find purchase beneath him as he fought desperately to push himself upright. He was the protector, the hero… he couldn't fail now.

"Damn it!" he cursed, muscles trembling as he willed his body to lend him the strength he needed: the strength to keep his memories alive.

He paused, eyes pricked like a cat's when sensing danger and cautiously, he sniffed the air, already knowing what smell would greet him. _Smoke? _He tilted his head, eyes straining against the darkness for the source of his disruption. It didn't take him long.

Despite the night air marring his vision, he could make out the strong pillar of dark grey smoke whispering out from the hood of his baby before reaching upwards towards the stars. He frowned to himself, then coughed loudly, feeling the smoke tickling his throat and taunting his lungs.

_Shit! _Doubling his efforts, Dean strained again, succeeding in raising his torso by a couple on inches. The same deadly thought occurred to him with each ragged breath he took. _'There's no smoke without fire…' _He ground his teeth painfully together and he proceeded with his struggle, feeling a mixture of sweat and blood trickle from his brow.

"Come on!" And with a cry of hurt and anguish, he straightened his arms, causing his injured side to slam against the steering wheel. He howled behind tightly clamped lips, eyes watering from the fire now spreading through his trembling frame. His arms began to shake, willing to submit to exhaustion once more.

"Don't!" he begged himself, sadness lacing his voice. "Please, don't!"

He had to get out of here. He had to find Sam. He had to save him cos… he just had to.

Breathing heavily through his nose, Dean closed his eyes in distress. He knew what was going to come and after all, he'd been in agony before, but this was different. If he lost it this time, both he and Sam wouldn't make it.

"_Strong mind, strong body…" A 14-year-old Dean had told Sam, his face stern in his attempt to teach such a valuable lesson, one that had stuck with them through all their hunting years. "You have to have a strong will 'else your body won't be able to take…" He broke off, not quite sure what to say. Sure, Sam had found out about a month ago that supernatural creatures really do exist, but it probably wasn't the best thing to talk about it. Right now, it was still a very sensitive issue. _

_Sam sighed sadly. "You mean, or else my body won't be able to last if some monster comes up and tries to eat me?"_

_The elder brother winced at Sam's poor choice of wording, slightly taken back by the emptiness in his voice. The whole hunting thing was a tough thing to get your head around, but it seemed more like Sam had just accepted it straight out. That scared Dean more than anything else. _

"_Well, yeah…" He scratched his head lightly. "But it applies to anything and you gotta have the ability to keep your mind intact for your muscles to function."_

"_Isn't that what you have to do anyway?"_

"_Um… In dangerous situations, it's kinda helpful."_

_Sam nodded, crossing his arms fervently over his chest as he gazed up at his brother. "So, how long before he wants me to go out and fight with you?"_

_Dean paused, before shaking his head softly. "That's not what this is about."_

"_Oh really, so why is that all of a sudden your giving me lessons in life?" Dean didn't reply, as he looked down tiredly at his feet. "Dad asked you to do this, didn't he?"_

"… _What makes you think that?"_

"_Maybe he thinks I need to be warned before going out 'ghostbusting'." The younger brother scoffed, his long mop of hair falling over his eyes, barely managed to cover his glare of anger. _

_A small laugh met his ears and Sam snapped his head up, cheeks turning pink as his eyes fell on Dean. His big brother was actually laughing at him. "It's not funny, Dean!"_

_And yet still, Dean proceeded to laugh, waving a hand heartily. "Ok, ok, but seriously! You think me and Dad run round in jumpsuits sucking up ghosts with a vacuum cleaner?"_

_With his ears turning red, the younger brother murmured, "No, I'm not that naïve."_

"_Whatever, dude," Dean smirked, before his face became serious, eyes twinkling with hidden knowledge. "And you're wrong you know. Dad doesn't want you to go out 'ghostbusting', never has. Why do you think we kept it from you for so long?"_

_Sam hesitated, unable to deny the strong truth of these words. "Well tell me then, why? Was I not strong enough or something?"_

"_No, nothing like that."_

"_Then what?"_

_Running a hand through his spiked sandy hair, the young hunter sighed, sounding much older than his years. "Sam, you're a smart kid, but when it comes to Dad…" He sniffed lightly. "Would you believe me if I told you he was doing it to protect you?"_

_Sam didn't reply, rolling his shoulders slightly: an action which Dean interpreted as a careless shrug. _

"_He was doing it to protect your innocence, dude."_

"… _My innocence?"_

"_Yep."_

_Dark eyes fell, looking at the floor as slight understanding began to filter into a once tightly closed mind. It made sense about why he was kept in the dark: a child's innocence was perhaps one of the most precious things to be granted in life. _

_He frowned. But that still didn't explain… "Then how come you knew about it?"_

_A grin plastered itself onto Dean's face, one of his many masks to hide his true feelings. "Ah, that ship sailed before I could get on many years ago."_

"_Oh…" In truth, the one surprised word was all Sam could say in order to express how he was really feeling. All these years and at least he had been given a chance at just being a normal kid, but Dean's was snatched away at the tender age of four. Since then, he had been bound to a reality of horror that until one month ago had only existed in Sam's nightmares. _

_Dean nodded slowly, bright green eyes narrowing as they took in the sight of his brother deep in thought. Deciding to avert the subject before it became a much hated 'chick-flick', he cleared his throat loudly. "Yeah, so anyway, back to what I was saying: strong mind, strong body…"_

"_Wrong."_

_His brow furrowed in confusion. "What?"_

_A soft smile lighted Sam's features, making him appear like the carefree child he had once claimed to be. "Strong heart, strong soul: that's what'll help you to survive."_

_Dean felt his lips curl as the two shared a smile and he inclined his head in acceptance. "Touche, squirt."_

"Ah!" The utter pain in that noise was enough to cause nesting birds in the surrounding trees to screech out in protest, their peace terribly disturbed.

It wasn't like Dean honestly cared. At the moment, he was putting his entire energy into staying conscious as he squeezed past the disfigured steering wheel that was jarring his body. His wounded side brushed it again, forcing him to hiss, the throbbing feeling doing nothing to ease his discomfort.

"Ok, ok," he breathed, eyes glazing over as the world began to blur. "Nearly there… on three… one…" His arms clenched, preparing themselves, "two…" he took a deep breath, holding it before he exclaimed, "three!"

His arms pushed his body upright, sending it flying past the deformed wheel, ripping a scream from him as flesh ripped on its jagged edges. Adrenaline failed him as he fell limply back down, body hanging over the wheel as he struggled to get his erratic breathing in control.

"In…" he gasped, "out… in… out…"

The smell of smoke burned his nostrils and his eyes were stinging, already wet from the array of tears that had been drawn from him through his ordeal. Every muscle seemed to ache, in desperate need of rest.

Dean shook his head, drops of sweat flying around him, "N-No time."

Rolling off the wheel, his fingers gripped the ruined wheel and he pulled himself forward, chest scraping against the ruins of his baby's interior. He winced with each movement, his inflamed side making itself known with the introduction of black spots as they danced before his dazed eyes.

Shattered windscreen, ruined interior, destroyed exterior… how the hell was the Impala ever going to come back from this?

Pushing his devastated thoughts to the back of his mind, he dragged himself further through the empty frame, broken glass clinging to his hair and clothes while delighting in carving itself into his skin. Somehow, Dean barely even recognized the pain: he was beyond it, now just too intent on getting out of there to even pay a second thought to his actual condition.

If he had, he'd have realized how bad of a shape he was really in…

He bit his lip hard, tasting iron in his mouth as blood dribbled freely from the corners of his mouth. His bloodied hands slipped on the smooth black bonnet, but not once did he cease, eventually content with sliding like a snake down the metal.

The billowing smoke roared past his face and he hacked loudly, the battle between oxygen and ash making itself all too well known.

Launching himself forward in a poor imitation of a pouncing cat, he hit the soft earth with a thud, followed quickly by a groan as he body curled in on itself, desperate to find some reprieve from the pain.

"Ah, God!" he murmured brokenly, his voice cracking with pent-up emotion. Green eyes disappeared between tightly closed lids as a spur of vertigo settled upon him, tempting him towards the welcoming dark.

He shook his head, spiky hair flicking up slightly. "N-No, gotta s-save Sammy…" True to his word, the weakened warrior rolled onto his knees, arms spread wide like a blind person searching for some kind of leverage on their surroundings. Suddenly, his body pitched forwards but stubborn arms locked, refusing to let him fall.

_Not yet anyway…_

Uneasily, he crawled forwards on hands and knees, fingers finding purchase in soft soil as he moved, the drip of blood as it fell back to earth somehow succeeding in keeping him lucid. Dirt encrusted in his fingernails, crawling into every crease of his worn clothes, his appearance becoming more and more ragged with each couple of centimeters.

_God, what'll Sammy think? _Dean smiled, dragging himself weakly past the hood of the Impala, feeling the heat of rising flames licking at his heels. _Keep moving, keep moving!_

His toes tingled unpleasantly as the fire burned behind him, just seconds away from reaching the gas tank. _So not the way I expected to go… _he mused, but his expression was serious. Sam had to have been thrown away from the car right? It wasn't like he was trapped underneath…

The elder brother froze, his face a mask of terror as he twisted, staring at his baby, "S-Sammy?" _No, he isn't, he can't be. I'd know! He's not -- he's not near the car… is he?!_

In the panicked decision to turn back, the flames growled at him before bursting outwards. Dean ducked, recoiling from the beast that leapt over his head, lightly brushing his bruised skin. That was only the warning: the next thing would most definitely not be as kind.

The Impala rumbled tiredly, clearly sensing its doom, feeling the touch of fire against the gas tank. It was a good thing Dean knew his baby well enough to understand her. In fact, it may have just saved his life.

With timed precision, Dean forced his feet beneath him, then, wincing with the shock of hurt shaking his frame, he dived, fingertips outstretched longingly. Behind him, the Impala screamed before the fire found its destination. The explosion shook the earth, a fireworks display shooting up around them, snapping at the woodland hungrily. Leaves fell away in fear and many resting birds took flight, fleeing to safely from the enraged monster as it devoured a once powerful huntress, finally beaten.

Dean felt the ripple in the air before the initial impact hit him, sending him careening further away from his faithful companion. His body collided painfully with an upturned root and he cried out, writhing where he lay as the orange war raged above him.

He kept his eyes tightly closed, knowing that this time, it was inevitable. The darkness was clutching at him, pulling him away from his duty and his brother.

Drawing in a ragged breath, the elder brother managed to open his eyes a crack, hoping to see what had become of his baby. What he saw instead was much worse…

It took him a second to focus, suffocating in the night that encased him, but finally his vision managed to clear for an instant. His mouth fell open in shock, fear passing through his pale face as his gaze connected with another's.

A pair of hazel eyes, only open to a half-mast, stared blankly back at him, a glaze dulling their once vibrant color. Thickened streams of blood broke over them: a horrific contrast to stark-white skin, while a mop of dark hair attempted to hide everything away and obscure it from view.

"S-Sss…" was all Dean could force out before his eyes rolled blissfully back into his head and he once again, gave in to unconsciousness…

* * *

_Do I get away with a duh duh duh at this point? :S _

_Please leave me a review and let me know what you think and whether I should continue or not! :D_

_(Oh and btw, I'm going away for a week or so, so again, the whole 'turtle' thing will be coming into play... apologies!)_

_Thanks for all your awesome support so far!!_

_Hugs, Ami-Rose x x x x x_


	3. Bittersweet Reunion

_Hey y'all :):):)_

_After feeling kinda guilty due to my last cliffie, I promise that no death has occured!! (yet...)_

_Thanks for reviewing/reading everyone and I hope you like this next chapter!_

* * *

Everything was surreal…

Colors blended around him, twisting and twirling in some unknown dance, pulsating with every heartbeat. Slowly, the pain was returning, a deep thrumming beneath his skin that constantly reminded him that he was in fact breathing.

_What a relief…_

His body felt warm, but at the same time, shivers racked his frame. He'd long since forgotten the difference between sweat and blood as it trailed all over him: a grotesque tattoo carved unwanted into him.

"De…De…?"

A frown pulled at his forehead, cracking the lines of dried blood resting there. _DeDe…? What the hell's a DeDe?_

It wasn't like he really cared. Even with a mild concussion he could still think clearly enough when it involved anyone he cared about. His baby was gone, finally going out in a literal blaze of glory like a true hero always should.

And his brother… He shuddered with unrelenting fear. Flashes of glassy hazel eyes greeted him from every corner of his shaken mind, tormenting him gleefully. _No, no, no…_

"De…? De…!"

_I don't care about a frigging DeDe! _He snapped angrily through his thoughts, keeping his eyes firmly closed, knowing what sight was bound to greet them when they opened. He just, he just wasn't ready… he wouldn't ever be ready.

Something soft like a lingering feather passed over his face and he tensed on instinct. The feeling remained, somehow anchoring him, making him feel slightly safer in a way. He allowed himself to relax into the touch, yearning for some kind of comfort to pull him through.

He heard himself sniff sorrowfully, but paid it no notice. He'd lost everything: what did his pride matter?

"D-De…"

_There it is again with that DeDe! _He inwardly scoffed, his annoyance rising with his other raging emotions. _I don't care about any DeDe. I just want my Sammy back…_

Tears pooled in his closed eyes and he bit his lip hard, holding back the sobs that were soon to break loose. Why Sam? Why his sweet little Sammy?

"_Why Sam?" Dean asked, his 9-year-old self scowling as a small child stood in front of him, wide eyes pleading with him in only a way that a cute puppy could. _

_He saw the child dig his heel into the carpet, looking at it sadly as he mumbled, "Cos I want you to pway with me, De."_

"_Can't you…" he broke off, eyes trialing longingly down to the comic he was reading. He knew he was grasping at straws, but right now, he was desperate. "Can't you ask Uncle Bobby to play with you?" _

_He saw from the kitchen that the elder hunter raised his head alarmed, hands covered in soap bubbles from the washing as he mouthed in surprise, 'What?'_

'_Play with him,' Dean replied, jerking his head to indicate his tiny brother beside him, still gazing quietly downwards. _

_Bobby rolled his eyes. 'He asked you, not me.'_

_Putting on his best impersonation of a pair of puppy-dog eyes, he begged, 'Please…"_

_He knew he'd won as the hunter sighed, wiping his hands dry on a nearby cloth before wandering into the room. 'Hey Sammy,' He greeted gently, watching the mop of hair bob joyfully as the wonderful pair of eyes met his. _

"_Hello, Uncle Bobby!" The dark haired brother trotted over, wrapping his arms tightly around the older man's legs in a gesture that made Bobby smile warmly where most other things failed. _

_Stroking the boy's hair, Bobby turned his gaze to Dean, seeing a grin on his lips as he flicked over a page of his comic, always keeping part of his mind on his surroundings. _

_Bobby knelt down, becoming eye-level with Sam as he beamed, "So you wanna go and play then?"_

_The expression that greeted him stunned him slightly. Sammy's bright eyes widened, mouth forming a cute 'o' shape. "Y-You want to pway with me?"_

"_Yeah… why wouldn't I?"_

_Sadly, Sam's eyes averted the man's stare. He shook his head, sniffing quietly before he muttered, "N-No-one else wants to pway with me anymore…"_

_Even without looking, Bobby could sense the elder brother's wince at Sam's words and the guilt that followed was as clear as day. Bobby cursed silently, knowing that although Sam had spoke only through innocence, the effect that would follow onto Dean would be devastating. _

_Putting a finger under Sam's chin, he raised the kid's head, seeing the tears trickling down his face, his body shaking, "Aw Sam, why would you say something like that?"_

"_C-Cos…" Sam's words trembled, sobs escaping unbidden from his small lips. "N-Nobody pways with me, no more. Daddy's n-never here a-and Dean don't want to no more. A-And I don't have a-a Mommy to pway with me s-so… so…" He broke off, breaking into a torrent of tears._

_Bobby pulled Sam into a strong and yet warming hug, letting him sink his head into his shirt, all the while allowing salty tears to soak the fabric. Caring blue eyes wandered over to Dean who sat with a shocked expression, his comic left open on his lap, long since forgotten. _

"_Dean…" The wizened hunter began but stopped himself when broken green eyes swiveled quickly to him before setting back on his brother's back. _

"_Sam?" The voice was somewhat calm, but laced beneath it all was utter regret: something that a child would luckily be unable to hear. _

_The young boy turned out of Bobby's grip, looking up at Dean with red-rimmed eyes, his cheeks soaked wet. Dean chewed on his lip, trying not to show how hurt-filled he really was. _

_Tossing the comic aside, Dean patted the couch as he said, "Come here, Sammy." He knew that although he hadn't rephrased his request as a question, it still came down to his little brother's choice. He just hoped he'd make the right one in his eyes. _

_Sam paused, then ran forward, scrambling hurriedly onto the seat next to his big brother. Quickly, Dean enveloped him tightly in his arms, resting his chin atop the mass of unruly hair. He felt a pair of tiny hands fist themselves into his shirt and for a moment he just sat, content to stay this way forever._

"_Sammy," Dean whispered softly, knowing he had his brother's full attention. "I'm sorry I didn't play with you. I was being stupid about it."_

"_Didn't you want to pway, De?" came the timid question, one which made Dean close his eyes tiredly, in search for a reprieve. _

_Tightening his hold, Dean sighed. "Of course I wanted to. I was… I was just being selfish." Bobby shook his head from where he crouched, observing the two of them. Dean was wrong there – he'd always been anything but selfish and asking for five minutes to himself was nothing to be guilty for. A kid of 9 should never be given such a difficult responsibility…_

_Sam didn't reply, just trying to process his words. "B-But, why isn't Daddy ever here?" He twisted, staring up with a confused expression at Dean. "Couldn't he come back for us?"_

"_He does, Sam. No matter what, he always comes back."_

_Nestling deeper against Dean's chest, Sam blinked slowly, tears dropping silently from his soft eyes. "Not for long dough…"_

_Again, Dean sighed, unable to deny the truth of Sam's words. It surprised him how smart his brother was for his age. Sure, maybe he didn't know about the things that went bump in the night, but he knew enough, maybe too much for his tender years. _

"_I know, kiddo, but he does his best. And you know I'm here for you right - even when Dad can't be." He felt a small nod against his chest. "Good, so, you wanna go play then?" Wiping the tears from Sam's eyes, Dean offered his biggest mega-watt smile, white teeth flashing brightly. _

_The younger brother returned it with one of his own before giving a shake of his head and resting back against Dean, closing his eyes. _

"_Sam, don't you wanna play?"_

"_Nuh-uh."_

_Dean raised an eyebrow, sharing a glance with the smiling hunter, now stood across the room. Rubbing a hand down Sam's back, he pushed, "And why's that?"_

_A muffled answer came from the adorable boy laid against him: "I don't need you to pway with me for you to make me happy." Sam yawned, curling up closer to his protector. "Jus' need you…"_

_Opening his mouth to say something, Dean decided to think better of it, then pulling Sam even closer to him, he let his eyes fall closed, leaning back into the couch's warm embrace._

_Bobby chuckled from the other side of the room, relishing at the wonderful sight that made up the two brothers. His lips still merrily upturned, he left, allowing both Dean and Sam their own personal space. _

"De…"

Terrified, Dean opened his eyes a crack, his vision managing to focus uncertainly in front of him. He jumped in shock as once again he was met with those same hazel eyes, glazed over and broken, the blood still worming its way past them.

"Oh God!" he exclaimed, feeling bile rise in his throat, unable to turn away from those empty eyes. "No, please…"

"De…?"

Dean froze at the questioning sound, taking in all of the pale face before him. Although marred by blood and mottled hair, he could still recognize his brother's gentle features beneath it all. He was still Dean's Sammy…

"De…?" Dean blanched. There was no mistaking it – Sam's lips had just moved.

_He just… Did he just speak to me?_

Disbelieving, Dean stuttered as he asked, "S-Sammy?"

For a moment there was just silence, and with a heavy heart, Dean realized he'd just imagined it. He sniffed, tears pooling in his eyes with despair. He'd lost him… He'd lost his Sammy.

"D-Dean?" There it was: the unmistakable voice of his little brother, the slight crimp on his forehead as he frowned, even though it was barely visible beneath a thick layer of blood.

"Sammy, thank God!" Dean exclaimed, dragging himself upright both hastily and in a lot of pain, groaning with the effort. His relief at knowing Sam was in fact still among the living seemed to rule out his weaknesses once again.

Tucking his knees beneath him, trying to support his own weight, he edged forward. His fingers reached out subconsciously, brushing aside the familiar long mop of hair and revealing a deep laceration along the younger Winchester's hairline.

"Shit, Sam," he hissed, wincing at the wound as if it was his own. He knew Sam had to have been thrown away from the car on impact and a concussion sprang instantly to mind. Green eyes looked into hazel, but still Sam's eyes remained empty, staring ahead unknowingly at Dean's knee.

"I-Is…" Sam swallowed, his throat raw from screaming, hoping his elder brother would answer him, "Is it r-really tha' bad?"

Grunting, Dean raised Sam's head gently so that it rested on his lap, trying not to cause any more unnecessary harm. His arms tenderly wrapped around the taller man's shoulders, a bid for protection in the lingering dark that continued to stalk them.

The elder brother smiled, "Nah, nothing big bro can't deal with, right?"

As he said it, his eyes were already scanning the rest of Sam's body, instantly picking up on the blood-drenched shirt clinging to his torso. Dean cursed again before finishing his scan, making a mental list of all the injuries he had to deal with: wound to the abdomen, possible broken leg and ribs, dislocated shoulder and a bad head injury accompanied by a concussion.

He reached out, pressing down on Sam's stomach, feeling the muscles tense, "Ssh, easy Sammy. I'm just keeping pressure on it." As if his words had been spun by a hypnotist, Sam relaxed, his body occasionally jerking as Dean increased the pressure.

_Gotta stop the bleeding! Shit! How much blood's he lost? _Trying to hide away his panic, Dean leant back, relinquishing his 'blood stopping' duties for a brief moment as he shrugged off his long, button-up shirt. He clenched his jaw at the burning sensation from his side as he stretched but once his arms lowered, the pain was reduced to nothing more than a dull throbbing. Rolling the shirt up in a ball, he once again placed it against Sam's wound, pushing down hard with his bloodied hand.

Sam's back arched in unspoken protest and Dean rested a comforting hand on his shoulder for reassurance.

Noticing Sam had fallen particularly quiet, Dean turned to study his face, seeing the way his dim eyes had slipped to a slight half-mast. "Sam? Sammy?" Lightly he tapped his brother's face, hearing his groan of response, "You still with me here?"

"… Mmm."

"Ok, well stay awake. Keep your eyes on me, kiddo." He didn't expect the heart broken sob that followed, Sam's face contorting as he fought back swarms of tears. "Sam, what is it?"

"I… I c-can't…" Another wrenching sob escaped him to be replaced by a yell of agony as he jostled, his ribs searing with pain.

Dean clutched him tightly, trying to prevent him from moving, "Sam, just calm down for me."

There was a sharp sniff and doe-like eyes blinked, gazing blankly past his shoulder. "De…" He broke off, biting down hard on his lip to stop from crying.

"Sammy, what can't you do?" He was met with a broken silence. "If you're talking about staying awake then I'll keep you awake somehow. Hell, I'll even sing to you if that's what it takes!"

"No… y-you don't understand."

Dean sighed, calming himself as the slur of Sam's words greeted him and softly, he ran his hand calmingly up and down Sam's arm. "Then help me to. I can't help you if you don't tell me what's wrong." Sam didn't reply, his head tilted to the side timidly, drowsily even.

Dean closed his eyes in distress, knowing how complicated head injuries could become. "You tired?" Sam nodded slowly, eyelids fluttering. "Just promise you'll stay awake. Look right at me ok?"

"N-No…"

"What?"

The younger brother was shaking his head in dismay, tears rolling down his pale, blood splattered face. Trembling, he raised his good arm, fingers straining outwards longingly.

Dean said nothing, too confused by Sam's actions to speak out loud. He watched as the long scrabbling fingers brushed his face before roaming back and forth, as if searching the skin for something hidden deep beneath the surface.

After a few seconds, Sam's arm dropped limply to his side and he hiccoughed loudly. His whole body seemed to be shaking now and Dean could feel the fear rolling off him in waves as dull eyes had now locked onto a point on his face.

"S-Sam?" He didn't honestly want to hear the words. Something was seriously wrong, but for once in his life, he didn't want to know.

"Dean…" came the lost voice, his face wet from wept tears, the taste of salt mixing disgusting with that of iron in his mouth.

"Dean." He felt his big brother's one-handed grip tighten, the other still held to the wound loosening slightly.

Choking back a sob, Sam collapsed deeper into Dean's hold, scared that speaking the words would make it even more of a grim reality. "Dean, I-I can't see…"

* * *

_Maybe someone should ban my evil cliffie muse now... :S_

_Please leave me a review and let me know what you think! Thanks everyone!! :P_

_Hugs, Ami-Rose x x x x x_


	4. Shine Your Light

_Hey y'all :):):)_

_Sorry for the slow update - been busy murdering people on my other fic lol_

_Thanks for reading and/or reviewing - I'm glad you're all enjoying it so far!_

_Hope y'all like this chapter!! :D_

* * *

"What?" The word shot out of Dean's mouth before he could control it. How could this happen? No, this couldn't happen to them, it couldn't! Trying to reign in his raging emotions, Dean just listened quietly for the answer, unknowingly causing Sam to whimper under the vice-like grip he was maintaining on his arm.

Shuddering, the younger brother ignored the throbbing pain in his arm, only focusing on an area where he knew Dean would be. "I-I can't s-see…"

It felt like he'd been on the receiving end of a pile-drive, all of the air whooshing from his air in stunned silence. Expressive green eyes stared deeply into the two blank ones, searching somewhere for the lie, the joke that would turn this all into the messed-up fantasy of a concussed hunter.

A slight yelp drew him from his thoughts and he recoiled, the scrunched-up look of pain on his brother's face blocking out everything else. "Sammy? What is it?"

"Y-You're h-hurting me."

At the words, Dean's eyes dropped to his hand, the knuckles a bright white from clenching his fist tightly, near popping them out of joint. Realizing he had in fact near crushed Sam's bicep, he hastily withdrew, flexing his fingers in an attempt to rid himself of the numb feeling spreading through them.

"Sorry, sorry…" he mumbled weakly, instantly berating himself for once again causing his brother more pain. _I'm so sorry, Sammy… _Blinking rapidly, the rising tears threatening to spill over his brave façade, he studied Sam's broken expression. Those once warm eyes lacked the comfort Dean sorely needed, perhaps even a hint of forgiveness in the form of a sparkle: one of the few signs he knew to look for.

Instead he had to settle for a quiet: "It's o-ok," doing nothing to relieve his aching heart.

For a moment, both brothers sat in utter silence, trying to deal in their own small way. Dean's hand kept steady against Sam's still bleeding wound while the other hovered in front of his mouth: his one defense against the sting of bile lurking in his throat.

"D-Dean…?" Immediately, Dean's focus snapped back to Sam, seeing as his brow furrowed in concentration. The elder brother blanched. _Concussion, shit! _

"Yeah Sammy."

Sam swallowed, eyelids fluttering weakly, "Y-You ok?"

Dean bit back a sarcastic laugh at that. The damn kid was injured, not to mention blind: _God no, Sam… _and he was still asking if he was alright. He wanted to open his mouth and scream back, cry that he wasn't ok. How the hell could he be?! He was holding his little brother, his _blind _little brother in his arms, coated in his blood and he didn't know what to do.

But being a Winchester, he managed to force out the words, "I'm fine." He hoped for now that would appease any further questions.

He'd never felt so lost, so helpless in his entire life. He couldn't drive them out of there: he gulped back a sob at the thought of his devoured baby, the last piece of his father he'd been able to save and treasure. He couldn't defend them if something attacked: all the weapons were in the car when it exploded. He couldn't… wait! Shoving his hand into his jacket pocket, his fingers closed tightly around his cell, wrenching it free with added haste. The screen lit up at his touch, igniting the small flare of hope he'd managed to uncover… only for it to be dashed a moment later.

_No signal… God damn it! _Grumbling, angrily, he stuffed the cell away, resting his trembling hand atop Sam's mop of hair, stroking it softly.

"Dean… H-How's the c-car?"

Dean flinched, continuing his soothing motion. He tilted, accessing the still bleeding wound on Sam's abdomen, realizing that if he didn't stop the bleeding soon… He shook his head, not even wanting to contemplate it. _This is so not good…_

"D-Dean?"

Sniffing softly, Dean replied, "Not good, Sam."

There was a pause. "… S-She gonna m-make it?"

Despite himself, Dean managed a grateful smile. He knew at times Sam had found his love for the Impala, what's the word, disturbing, unnatural even, but when it came down to it, little brother had respected him for it and if anything, been truly understanding.

Sam had often made claims that Dean cared about the Impala more than him, but it couldn't be further from the truth. If there was a choice between saving the car or, saving Sam, the latter would win every time. _Even, _Dean thought to himself, _if it meant losing the best part of a memory. _

The elder brother sighed deeply, feeling Sam tense, knowing what was coming. "No, Sammy. Erm… s-she's not coming back from this one." He turned his head away, shame burning at his cheeks for letting his emotions get the better of him at a time like this. Sam needed medical attention, not another goddamned chick-flick moment.

Beneath him, Sam coughed, a deep rattling cough that shook Dean to the core, releasing more of his fear into the open. "I-I'm sorry man."

"Ssh, it's alright," Dean whispered softly, tugging Sam closer to him. "Wasn't your fault, dude."

Taking a deep breath, his chest heaving, Sam pinpointed Dean's position, his eyes staring into his big brother's as if for a second, he could actually still see. "H-Heard it…"

"What?"

"T-The explosion… thought y-you'd…" he broke off, shivering with both cold and horror. Dean closed his eyes sadly, resting his chin atop Sam's head, rocking him softly. Tears rolled from unseeing eyes as Sam sobbed, "T-Thought you'd l-left me."

"No never. I'd never leave you, Sammy," Dean assured him, worry growing ten-fold at the damp feeling in his hand as the shirt he was using had on Sam's wound had become saturated, blood dripping from it freely.

A harsh cough tore at his heartstrings once more, Sam's pain flowing through him as if it was his own. "I-I left you…"

Shaking his head, Dean tugged himself backwards, climbing into a crouch. "We're not starting this now, Sam. You hear me?" He watched Sam sag where he lay, absent of Dean's support, before he nodded once. "I need you to work with me here, ok kiddo?"

Again, Sam nodded, "W-Where we goin'?"

Dean winced, the slur in his brother's voice becoming more and more prominent with each passing second. _I've gotta stop this bleeding! _He looked around frantically, the still burning flames licking at his wrecked baby where she lay: a blackened crater marking her grave.

Spying a nearby tree, not too far from the wreckage but far enough should another explosion occur, grabbed the elder Winchester's attention and with a decisive nod, he leant over Sam, his concern unmasked, but thankfully, unseen. "Sammy?"

The eyes that had drifted half-closed, blinked wearily open again, following Dean's voice through the darkness. "Mmm…" he managed, the pull of unconsciousness taking its toll on him.

"Sam," a hand cupped his face, trying to keep his attention focused. "Ok, you gotta stay with me here. Alright?" A slight tilt of Sam's already drooping head was all he received. "I need you to keep pressure on your wound. Here…" Sam flinched as a hand suddenly grasped one of his own, but he relaxed, recognizing the coarse texture upon his. He waited patiently as his hand was guided before pressed down against a damp material resting on his stomach.

He could sense Dean's smile of approval as he pressed down, grimacing at the pain, but willing to trust his brother's judgment. Dean knew best – there was no doubting that.

"Good, Sam," came the praise from somewhere above him and his lips twitched slightly at the corners. "Now you keep that pressure on, alright?"

Shakily, the whisper crept from Sam's lips, weak but willing to assist Dean in any way possible. "Ok."

There was a shuffle from behind him before he felt two hands grip tightly under his arms, hoisting him upwards. He bit down hard on his lip at the agony, bursting white-hot through his body, but tried to bear it. Unwillingly, he pressed down harder on his wound, the dizziness aggravated his already warped senses.

_Stay awake! Stay awake! _He ordered himself, not wanting to let Dean down. _He's depending on me. I have to do this…_

He couldn't tell if he was upright, barely noticing as his feet were dragged along the floor, catching on twigs and leaves stranded along the forest floor. The deep panting of his brother above him was all he listened to, picking up on the edge of hurt that surrounded it. It was easy to recognize: the slight laboring between each inhale, the shakiness of each exhale, or the way that now and again, Dean's breathing hitched agonizingly.

Had he been granted the energy, Sam would have scowled and sworn out loud, but as it was, those words were only reserved for his own head. _Lying bastard!_

It seemed like forever as he was pulled along to his new resting place, but with each footstep, Sam felt his head lolling downwards, chin smacking against his chest. His hand still tightly gripped the blood-drenched shirt, but no longer was he keeping the pressure he needed on the wound to stop him from bleeding out. He was drifting, but even that wasn't as bad as knowing that with the one simple task he'd been given, he'd failed his brother…

He'd only made it a few steps before true fatigue was beginning to rear its ugly head. Dean shook it off with a growl, his chest heaving as he dragged his little brother's body along the floor. His side screamed in protest and already he could feel fresh blood running through his shirt, staining it mercilessly.

Shaking it off easily, his concern only residing on Sam, he kept up his efforts, awkwardly tugging Sam along with him. Ok, so the transportation method wasn't practical, but a fireman's carry was a huge no-no. Ignoring the fact that it alone could probably kill Sam, what with his torn open stomach and possible broken ribs, but Dean didn't have the strength to lift his brother. Had he tried and if they both ended up going down, it seemed unlikely that either of them would be able to get back up again.

"God, Sam," he panted weakly, his chest heaving with the effort. "For all that healthy crap you eat, you sure weigh a lot." It wasn't necessarily true. But, Sam's height did make him insanely difficult to lift: he was a human slinky, just all limbs.

Dean knew that Sam hadn't been eating right, not since he'd made the damn deal. The countless nights he'd caught Sam wide awake, typing erratically into the laptop, getting zero sleep and then refusing any food in the morning. It played on Dean's last nerve and he'd just been waiting fearfully for the day when Sam would simply keel over from malnourishment.

_Stupid ass, _he murmured to himself, his rasping breaths slowing him down considerably. _Not that you weren't a string bean in the first place, but this is getting ridiculous. _

He almost jumped in surprise as his back collided with the bark of his selected tree, and he breathed deeply, trying to calm his racing heart. His gaze dropped to the limp form in his grasp, fear peeking at the sight of Sam's head drooping against his chest, face covered by long, unruly bangs.

"Shit!" he exclaimed, carefully sidestepping around Sam's body and resting the kid's back carefully up against the tree's sturdy trunk. Drawing in deep refreshing breaths, Dean dropped to a crouch in front of his brother, brushing the dark hair aside, revealing tightly closed eyes.

"Sam," he coaxed, lightly tapping the side of his brother's face, trying to instill a reaction. None came. Shifting in his position, he moved closer, pressing his own hand back over Sam's in its abandoned duty on his bleeding abdomen.

Again, he tapped his brother's face, slightly harder than before. "Sam, come on buddy. Wake up for me."

Sam's head listed to the side lifelessly, falling away from Dean's touch. "No!" Both hands reached up, grabbing the sides of Sam's face, green eyes tearful as Dean pleaded. "Sammy! Open your eyes, please! Don't do this to me, Sam. Sammy?"

A groan stopped his mantra mid-sentence, his gaze hopeful, watching Sam's eyes flicker slightly. "That's it, Sammy. Come on back to me, kiddo."

Hesitantly, Sam opened his eyes, once again greeted with nothing but the darkness. His hand shot up with surprising speed, stopping directly before the side of Dean's face, ignoring the elder brother's wince of shocked apprehension, as it rested there comfortingly.

"D-Dean…" He trembled, his fingers rubbing back and forth across his brother's face, feeling the rough stubble as he brushed over it lovingly.

Dean exhaled in relief, leaning into the touch Sam provided, "Thank God, Sam." One of his hands returned to the wound, continuing to assist Sam in providing pressure while the other fell to Sam's shoulder, squeezing gently. "You back with me now?"

Nodding, struggling to keep his eyes wide, Sam's hand persisted to run up and down the side of Dean's face, almost as if he was looking for something. Remaining perfectly still, Dean permitted the exploration, knowing that in his time of desperation, this was something Sam needed.

"Y-You didn't t-tell me y-you were hurt," Sam ground out, his fingers now roaming Dean's brow, feeling a rough bump on his head, matted with dried blood.

Dean shrugged, trying to avoid burdening his brother with anymore hardship. "Yeah, ok. A bump on the head, but nothing seri…"

"I-I h-heard it when y-you were p-pulling me."

Frowning, Dean began, "I don't…"

"Y-Your breathing, D-Dean," Sam whispered, his energy fading rapidly, thoughts becoming less coherent as his concussion fully took its toll. "U-Uneven… p-pained…"

Dean's eyes narrowed, suspiciously. _How the hell'd he pick up on that? _But then again, impaired senses and all: one sense goes, others become more enhanced. A slight smirk crept onto his pale face, his pride at his brother shining strong, "So what, you got super-hearing now?"

With a snort, Sam's head fell to his side with a thud, his moments of strength now diminished. A harsh chuckle, combined with a rasping cough escaped him. "J-Jealous…"

"Me?!" Dean spat out, trying to sound offended. It failed as Sam managed, even in his weakened state, a Sam Winchester style eye-roll. "Fine, whatever, Batman."

Sam just shook his head, smiling tiredly. _Batman doesn't even have super-hearing, Dean. _His eyes began to close, finally succumbing to the abyss when something slapped against his cheek. His eyes widened in surprise, unable to see his opponent but still instantly alert.

"Stay awake, Sam."

And somehow Sam felt he could. Perhaps the lucidity at being hit by an unseen attack had sparked something in him: an instinctual sense to survive perhaps, making him more aware, maybe even paranoid.

He couldn't really make out Dean's following words, but the last three: "Be right back", ripped at him and, panic rising within him, he lunged forwards, forgetting for a moment about his wound as he grabbed onto Dean's shirt, clinging on for dear life.

"Whoa Sam!" Dean exclaimed, nearly falling backwards with the force of a 6'4 juggernaut colliding with him. Finding his balance, he gently attempting to pry Sam's clamped fingers from his shirt, feeling the tremors running through his little brother's frame.

"Sam, it's ok," he soothed, finally free of the tightened hands, clutching them tightly in his own.

Terrified, tears shining in his eyes, Sam shook his head, squeezing Dean's hands tightly. "N-N-No… P-Please don't g-go!"

Oh and how Dean's heart felt like breaking right there and then. As he looked sadly at his brother's huddled form, taking in how much he seemed like an abandoned puppy left outside in the dark, he wanted nothing more than to break the rules he had set and wrench Sam into a hug.

As it was, that would have just been dangerous for the both of them, so, with a heart-filled sigh, Dean leant forwards, his forehead touching Sam's softly as he allowed their contact to comfort both of them.

Exhaling slowly, Sam felt his brother's warm breath pass over his face, unspoken words of _'I love you' _whispering over his ears. "Sam, you have to trust me. I promise you, I won't leave. I just need to grab some stuff from the…" Dean paused, sadly. "From around the Impala, then I'll come right back to you."

A tear rolled down Sam's cheek and he felt one of Dean's fingers lift up, brushing it calmly away. "O-Ok, Dean."

"Ok," Dean smiled, proud of his little brother's unwavering bravery. Hesitantly, he pulled away, feeling the increased grip of his brother's hand on his own as he did so. Sighing, he detached the long fingers locked around his hand and backed away.

As he stood up, he heard a soft mutter and watched as Sam's gaze studied him up and down. "Sam?"

The younger brother sighed deeply, resting his head back against the tree trunk. "Y-You're l-light…" came the gentle sound, causing Dean to frown in confusion.

"What do you mean?"

Sam smiled, blank eyes shimmering with devotion to the man before him. "T-There's s-shadows… it's a-all I can s-see: m-moving shadows. But with y-you, t-there's l-light, shining, g-guiding me." Dean raised an eyebrow, but said nothing. "I… I think y-you're my l-light, Dean."

From where he stood, one hand trailing near his injured side, Dean couldn't help but gape in surprise. _How…? _His brother could see _him_? Everything else was moving shadows, but then, there was a light… _I'm Sammy's light? _

Lips upturning, Dean turned away, wincing at the radiating pain in his side as he limped away, searching through the destruction of his faithful baby for anything left behind. And even as he cut his hands on sharp shards of metal, or burnt his skin of still flickering flames, his smile never faltered.

Sam listened as his brother walked away, his glassy eyes following the bright light as it went. He didn't fail to notice, that at his words, the light seemed to shine just that little bit brighter before it drifted away…

* * *

_Erm... well, I don't think I've limped Sammy enough yet or angstied (?) Dean enough either so... -rubs hands together- I'm thinking lol_

_Please leave me a review and let me know what you think! I'd love to hear your opinion on whether I should hurt Sam/Dean more, have more chick-flicky moments... whatever you think :P_

_Hugs, Ami-Rose x x x x x_


	5. Tick Tick Boom

_Hey y'all :):):)_

_Ok, first off, I think I owe everyone a huge apology for not updating sooner! I had a full-on fight with my computer when it wouldn't access the files and unfortunately, the damn computer won... :(_

_But all is good - the computer is totally fine now so all I gotta do is get caught up with my fics and we're back on track! ;)_

_Thanks so much for your wonderful patience and I hope this chapter satisfies (I added Dean!whumpage for those who wanted it -evil grin-)_

_So yeah, hope y'all enjoy!!_

* * *

God, it hurt! Dean grimaced, gritting his jaw tightly as he bent forwards, hand grasping at a long shard of metal embedded in the earth: a small remaining limb of his loving huntress.

Every movement seemed to tug at his wounded side, sending stabs of fiery pain through his body, making him tremble uncontrollably as his knees prepared to buckle.

"Jesus…" he hissed quietly, fingers latching tightly around the metal shard, as much for his own support as retrieving it. Forcing himself to breathe heavily through his nose, he paused, eyes screwed closed as he fought against his own body, not willing to give up yet.

Going with the pain, he pulled back, clutching at the shard of metal and feeling it give in its buried position inches into the earth. He groaned as he strained, the muscles in his neck pulsating with each movement. _Come on, come on! _He begged and crying out in frustration and hurt, he wrenched backwards.

The metal flew easily out of the ground, its backwards momentum causing Dean to tumble, his weakened muscles no longer capable of supporting his own weight. His knees buckled, allowing him to crash with a loud shatter against the glass covered floor.

Hissing, screwing his eyes as tightly closed as possible, he waited, trying to work through the pain. His side, damn, it hurt like hell. The wound must've been deep, deep enough to still be bleeding and sore enough to lure him close to unconsciousness.

Oh, but that wasn't all! Didn't a wise man once say that 'If we didn't have bad luck, we wouldn't have any luck at all'? _How frigging true! _

Dean shifted, grimacing at the flaring pains in his back from the now deeply embedded shards of glass. Fresh cuts littered the backs of his arms and legs, just adding further insult to injury.

Blinking open his weary green eyes, Dean stared at the gap between the branches of the trees, staring up at the cloud-ridden dark sky. "… If there's a God, He really hates me." And with that optimistic thought, he heaved, wincing as he rolled onto his side. Tucking his knees beneath him, he pushed himself upright onto them, near-biting through his lip at the agony it put him through.

"And the thing is," he panted heavily, sweat pooling on his creased brow, "He lets me know it too."

Tensing his strong muscles, he raised himself onto his heels, his limbs trembling with the once-so easy effort. It was near-patronizing that an athletic man, famed for hunting the supernatural, fighting with incredible skill and possessing the stealth of an assassin was reduced to a shivering wreck, barely even able to stand on his own two feet.

Finally succeeding in his tiresome attempts, Dean hunched over, trying to lessen the throbbing motion as it pulsated through his muscles. The shard of metal, only 12 inches or so in length was gripped tightly in his right hand, the sharp edges digging dangerously into his skin.

His eyes scanned the grave of his baby, searching for any form of ammunition: anything for them to defend themselves with. But so far, it was slim pickings.

"Fan-frigging-tastic," the elder Winchester grumbled moodily, stumbling forwards, his intense stare locked on the burnt ground beneath him. He couldn't make out much – even if some of the wreckage was in someway salvageable, there was no way he could do anything in his condition. Right now, he needed something whole and useful…

He paused, squinting against the Impala's remains, just managing to recognize the familiar handle of his favorite Desert Eagle. A grin wound its way onto his battered face, making him seem all but 5 again, "Aw, no way!"

Bending at the waist, placing the crippling pain to the back of his mind as a newly found sense of relief enveloped him, his free hand closed around the cool handle. The familiar feel of his weapon was as comforting as a warm blanket on a bitter winter's night. It was his true form of protection, both his and his brother's. He'd cherished it since his 18th birthday when his father had given it to him as a gift. Since then, it had always been somewhere close to him, normally within lunging distance.

Hesitantly, he withdrew, straightening once more with a grunt. He tilted the gun from side to side, studying its features while checking the barrel was still intact. Once satisfied it was still in fighting order, he nodded, tucking it away in the back of his jeans.

"Ok," he murmured softly, a gentle wheeze following each intake of breath, "So far, got a gun and a piece of metal… that's great." He ran a shaking hand through his spiky hair, knowing that if they came across anything at all supernatural, they were totally screwed.

_Except maybe a vampire, _he reasoned spitefully, realizing that there was nothing left to find in the blackened crater. _Maybe if we ask it to stand really still we can gradually saw its frigging head off!_

Growling, he wavered where he stood, the momentary lapse in his strength forcing him to sway. As he grabbed a hold of himself, he knew things were bad – hell, the most bad, bad thing they'd ever had to come across.

He didn't know what to do… If they were attacked, they could hardly defend themselves. They couldn't call for help, which usually they wouldn't admit to needing. Even the Impala couldn't save them this time, speeding them away from danger like she always used to.

"Oh baby…" Dean breathed, tearfully glancing around what remained of her body. "I'm sorry." And he was. She was the last remains of their childhood, as messed up as it had been. She was even the last connection to their late father – everything else he had owned had no sentimental value. It had all been about the hunt…

A tear crept down the tired hunter's face. The Impala had been their home. They'd spent more time in her than any other place they'd come to stay. She was their sanctuary when they needed safe-haven, their back-up when all else failed, their companion…

But she was also a huntress, and as they say, she went down swinging. "Just like a hunter should," Dean whispered solemnly, his lips quirking weakly at the corners.

"I'll miss you, baby," he sighed, turning painfully away and limping back towards his brother.

_Tick…_

Dean froze, an eyebrow raised as he twisted, staring back at the Impala's grave. _What the hell? _He narrowed his eyes, squinting past the still flickering flames that licked at what remained of her sturdy carcass. But there was something else – soaking into the ground around her, a murky puddle spreading rapidly outwards across the deadened soil.

_Tick…_

He watched as the substance dripped again, a light breeze whistling through the trees. Dancing with the wind, a flame listed to the side, straining outwards, scratching at the edge of the distorted liquid.

But as his eyes widened, understanding creeping into his worn-out brain, he knew it was too late…

The remaining leaked oil ignited with a blast, flames roaring outwards in a renewed attack. The explosion wasn't as large as last time, but Dean was now much closer, with no energy to run or dive away. The force hit him like a subway train, the air knocked from his lungs as he was thrown backwards.

The last thing he saw were the flames as they singed his jacket, reaching out for him angrily before he hit something hard and his head snapped backwards. Everything faded quickly and before he'd even hit the floor, he was unconscious…

* * *

As soon as Dean's light disappeared beyond his 'sight', Sam let out an involuntary shudder. Without Dean here he just felt so vulnerable: alone even…

Pressing down hard on his wound, exactly how Dean had told him too, he blinked slowly, trying to pinpoint his big brother's position somewhere amidst the swirling darkness. He listened carefully, just managing to hear the soft shuffle of footsteps, unmistakably Dean's in those huge combat boots he always seemed to wear.

Sam sighed in relief, leaning back against the tree trunk and letting his empty eyes close. What would it matter if he shut his eyes for a little while? It wasn't like he could see with them open anyway.

God, he was so damn tired… Everything seemed to be so much harder, even something once so simple as breathing now just caused his chest to hitch awkwardly, restricting oxygen. But he knew it would be alright – he had Dean with him, of course everything would be fine.

The thumping in his head drew him back from the verge of darkness, the steadily growing migraine now making itself known. He hissed, screwing his eyes closed and raising his free arm shakily to his head. He knew he was in a bad way – he could tell easily enough from his lack of coordination that allowed his hand to smack him on the forehead before resting there in comfort.

His whole body was thrumming, each heartbeat seeming to work its way through every muscle, making them twitch in annoyance. He wanted to succumb into much needed sleep, but the pain was anchoring him, keeping him there until Dean returned.

_Dean, please hurry!_

But Dean wasn't likely to come swooping into the rescue this time.

The booming bellow of the explosion forced Sam to yelp, both hands flying to his ears to block out the sound. It crashed through his already throbbing head, forcing nausea to clutch at him, his whole body listing to the side. It was agony and he yelled out, screwing his eyes shut, listening to the raging fire, the crashes and chaos that engulfed anything happening to be in its way.

_Stop, please stop! _He begged, forgetting that his blood was still flowing mercilessly to the floor. His only focus was on his head, seconds away from also exploding…

Finally the noise subsided, leaving Sam panting breathlessly on the floor, his hands falling limply from his head. The ringing through his brain persisted, not quite willing to grant him the freedom of torture that lingered just out of his yearning grasp.

No, he wasn't that fortunate…

Swallowing, his throat like coarse sandpaper, he managed to scrape out the word, "Dean."

He waited, expecting the reply of pattering footsteps, a soft gentle voice, hell, maybe even a snarky comment about his inability to last five minutes without him. But they never came, and it was in that moment, that he prayed for nothing else…

"Dean," he ground out again, a little louder, his glassy eyes searching for something he could no longer see: his missing light. "Dean!"

Sam shifted from where he'd slumped weakly onto his side, trying to find purchase with his sore, aching hands. He knew he was disobeying Dean's order to keep pressure on his wound, _no matter what_, but right now, he didn't care.

With a groan, he pushed himself onto his knees, already gasping with exertion. Sweat dripped from his bleeding forehead, a slight fever proceeding to slow his actions. He knew he wasn't going to make it far: blood loss and a truckload of injuries were making sure of that, but maybe, just maybe he could make it far enough.

His breath rasping in his lungs, he slowly placed one hand in front of the other, dragging his knees weakly along the undergrowth, barely wincing as the twigs and pieces of shattered glass dug into his skin.

"Dean," he called again, waiting for an answer. _Please just answer me! _And yet cruel taunting silence was all that replied, mocking him just that little more for being unable to watch his brother's back.

Tears fell from his blind eyes, his hands groping along the floor, his skin now flayed and bloody as he soldiered on. "I-I'm sorry, D-Dean… I'm s-so s-sorry…"

And yet, his light failed to return, not even to answer his pitiful cries that swept along the forest floor. His breath rattled in his throat, his sobs even wetter as blood trickled along his throat. His back arched as he coughed painfully, pitching forwards while he expelled the red substance from his mouth.

His lungs strained for air as he groaned, every inch of his body bruised or cut, stinging horribly. It felt like his intestines were about to fall from his body: God, he was losing too much blood.

Stretching out another ripped and bloody hand, his strength finally subsided and he collapsed forwards limply to the floor. He gasped, the searing pain from his abdomen forcing his body to jerk where he lay, glass digging itself deeper into his skin.

"De… De…" He managed once more, raising his head just an inch, his long hair falling over his glassy eyes. "H-Help… me…"

But his light, his helping hand, wasn't coming this time…

Sam choked again, resting his head back tiredly against the floor. His shirt was saturated in his blood and he knew that now, he didn't stand much of a chance. He didn't care – if Dean wasn't answering him, it meant that he was unable to for whatever reason and if Dean was truly gone then it was only right that Sam should follow: just like they promised. _We go together…_

Exhaling slowly, eyes fluttering softly closed, Sam felt the cold darkness of the abyss clutching at his being, but did nothing to stop it. All the pain began to recede as he gave in, his body splayed out awkwardly on the floor, the growing pool of blood around him painted like a sick portrait.

He didn't hear the words as darkness claimed him – the haunting words that held them there, refusing to relinquish its cruel grip…

"_You will never leave this place… The forest has claimed you… Do not try to escape, or you will be punished… Fight and you will regret it… You will die here… The choice of how, is up to you…"_

The wind whistled dutifully through the trees and unseen to its victims, a spirit watched them from afar, a cruel sneer on her pale face. The woman flicked her hair back from her cold eyes, the smell of blood and pain enticing her senses from where she lingered.

Tilting her head to the side, she considered them for a moment, their faces somewhat peaceful in unconsciousness. She licked her lips, a malicious glint in her eyes while she stared. There was so much she could do to them – would they still be so willing to fight once she was through?

_Perhaps I shall find out… _And with a ghostly flicker, her mean laugh echoing through the air, she blinked out of existence, leaving the brothers alone and dying on the heartless forest floor…

* * *

_Sorry I needed an evil cliffie after my stress with the computer... but now that my nasty muse is up and running, it's time for a little more fun, don't you agree? -grins-_

_Please leave me a review and let me know if you liked it!! :) (Enough whumpage for you?)_

_Hugs, Ami-Rose x x x x x_


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